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Tuesday, November 8, 2011

I am one of those people who hate surprises, but loves gifts. There's something about a wrapped box with a fancy bow. I see one and I have to physically fight the urge to pick it up and shake it.

Every year my husband tries to surprise me with some kind of elaborate gift. One that I would never guess. This was easier before the kids came along.

My husband has spent the last decade training Amaya and Rio to keep their mouths shut. Sad to say, he has nothing on the skills I possess to pry their secrets out of them. However, I admit, it's getting harder every year.

"Where were you guys?" I asked.

No one answers. Amaya and Rio head straight to their rooms and shut their doors. Umm...if that isn't suspicious. My husband plays dumb also.

My first move, operation Rio. I decided to attack while he was in the shower. I barged in. My husband followed closely behind ready to jump on the grenade.

"So Rio..." I began, as I opened the shower curtain. "Do you have something you need to tell me?" I waited until his eyes were troubled. He looked over my shoulder towards his dad, who stood behind me shaking his head not to tell.

"No? I don't have anything to tell you?" he asked nervously following his dad's lead.

"Well the store called, they said you took something," Rio's eyes widened at such an accusation. "What happened? Do you want to tell me the truth or should we go back to the store and you can explain it to them?"

"Okay stop!" I flapped my hands. "I'm kidding. I was just showing Dad one my tricks," I confessed.

Amaya was next. She was much harder to break. My questions couldn't crack her silence. So I upped the stakes. I went to the office and grabbed my wallet.

"What are you doing?" my husband panicked.

"Do you want to tell me now?" I asked and flashed a crisp twenty dollar bill in front of her face.

Amaya froze and gradually turned her head pleading for her dad to jump in and save her. She was too weak to resist.

"See...you just have to know what motivates them," I told my husband.

"Okay, you win!" my husband announced. "You have skills."

But eventually everything comes out, so really, patience is my best skill. The next morning while blow drying Rio's hair he couldn't help it.

"Mom, yesterday after we went to Best Buy, we went to Tilly's, and everyone, even Grandma, was spraying perfume..." Rio realized who he was speaking to and slowly looked up at me. "Oh, no..." he dropped his head then shook it. "Oh, no...."

Nikki

Who am I? I am the parent standing in the back of the PTA meeting pretending to care about such trivial issues. All while feeling this is a complete waste of time. Screaming inside my head, "You've got to be kidding me!" Has it really come to this? Don't bother to look around; you won't be able to figure out who I am. In fact blending in has become a survival skill that I am quite proud of. Standing in the back with my heart racing, afraid that my thoughts will somehow escape my mouth without my permission and I will be exposed. I will be exiled and everyone will think I am crazy. But from where I stand, crazy seems to be running the show these days. Speaking up is hard, voicing an opinion that you are conditioned to believe is unpopular, even harder.